Crawl out through the friend zone baby
by Mrs. Sherlock Holmes
Summary: Sole Survivor Amelia has just gained a new companion after accidentally breaking into the Mayor of Goodneighbor's secret stash. Luckily he doesn't hold a grudge. Soon though, John Hancock figures out that he would like to hold something else. Can he crawl out of the Friend Zone?
1. Chapter 1

**This is a Fallout 4 Fic featuring my FSS/ Amelia and everyone's favorite ghoul mayor post "The Big Dig" quest. Rated M for language and maybe other stuff later. I own nothing, I'm just playing in Bethesda's sandbox. Please read and review! More chapters soon, if I get some positive feedback.**

Amelia wasn't entirely sure about her new companion. Hancock was a very interesting man…ghoul…guy.

She was still feeling embarrassed at being tricked by Bobbi-No-Nose into breaking into the mayor of Goodneighbor's personal stash, but luckily he had believed that she was an innocent pawn in Bobbi's failed plan. Surprisingly, he seemed to like Amelia so much that he offered to travel with her. She was a little stunned, but overall pleased since he was obviously capable of watching her ass as well as his own. He proved this shortly after leaving town when they stumbled upon a shit storm of Gunners in the Postal Square. Afterwards she was still a little shell shocked while he picked through the bodies for loot, muttering to himself, "Well, at least they tried…"

Now he was currently sitting on a rusted stool at Power Noodles in Diamond city, flinging rubbery pasta at the back of Takahashi's chrome head. He chuckled softly to himself with every direct hit, and tilted his tri-corner hat lower over his eyes. Amelia kept watching him as he reached back to scratch at his ribs through his heavy, red wool coat. She wondered if he wore it all the time. Sure, it was fine now in October with a chill in the air, but he would sweat to death in the warmer months, or did ghouls have some weird, anti-sweat mutation?

She finished her transaction with Arturo, the full boxes of .308 a comforting weight in her pack, and motioned to Hancock that she was ready to head out. He leaned his head back and raised the bowl to his lips, tipping in the remaining noodles and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Hang on one second." He told her in a scratchy voice, and ducked under the yellow sign of Commonwealth Weaponry. He emerged a few moments later with shiny new .45 combat rifle.

"I figured I would buy myself something nice to celebrate my new job as a roving bodyguard." He patted the gun with a gnarled hand and winked at Amelia as they left the city walking north towards the river.

"Bodyguard?" she gave him a playful grin. "What makes you think I need guarding?"

Hancock gave her a lurid glance from head to foot, and whistled low.

"Sister, with that body, I should probably be guarding you from myself."

He kept walking, with a definite swagger in his step, leaving Amelia standing still with her mouth hanging open. She definitely wasn't expecting that.

A couple of hours later they strode into the Red Rocket where Amelia had made a small, but heavily fortified safe house. They were greeted by a very waggy Dogmeat, who was excessively pleased to see Amelia. He sniffed cautiously at Hancock, but didn't growl or bark, so Amelia figured it was safe to leave them together while she took a much needed shower. She retreated to the back room where she had rigged a shower nozzle connected by rubber tubing to a large barrel of water on the roof. The water was heated by the sun and fed into the nozzle by gravity, resulting in a pretty authentic shower experience…for the wasteland anyway. She took her time and enjoyed the warm water, rinsing the grime from her skin and her long, chestnut hair. She dried off and zipped herself into a clean vault suit, leaving the armor off for now.

She returned to the small living quarters in the garage bay and found Hancock draped across the tattered sofa, his face hidden behind the Grognak comic he was reading while scratching Dogmeat between the ears. He caught a whiff of soap and peeped covertly over the top of the comic book, taking in the sight of her tight fitting suit and the cascade of dark, damp hair. He though had been joking when he said she needed to be guarded because of her looks, but now he was feeling that he may have been right after all.

Hancock had become pretty used to being alone in the past several years. He had spent most of that time convincing himself that he had all he needed in Goodneighbor. He was respected, even idolized by the citizens there, and he was proud of what he had accomplished in making a safe place for the outcasts of the Commonwealth. He had moved past any longings for female companionship by going on short 'clean up' missions with Fahrenheit to keep the riff raff well away from his town. Not that she hadn't offered on occasion to engage in _recreational activities_ , but somehow seeing the tall woman blast raiders and super mutants into tiny pieces with unbridled glee curbed any potential romantic feelings he may have had.

Amelia was different though. While she was no less deadly with that sniper rifle she loved so much, she didn't seem to thrill in the killing like Fahrenheit did. She still had a deep, warm, caring aura of humanity about her; even after losing the two most important people in her life in a way that would have had most people irreparably broken, or at least forever altered into a different, harder, being. She wasn't lost yet, and more than anything he wanted to make sure she never got there.

She was leaning over an open footlocker and pulling out a dingy yellow sleeping bag, which she carried back into the office area of the Red Rocket. He breathed in her clean scent more deeply and held it in his lungs, anticipating the proverbial boot he was about to receive to other sleeping quarters. When she came back she stood silently for a moment before clearing her throat to get his attention.

"Ok, I've got you all set in the office." She said, pointing in that direction. "Shower is in the small room to the left, sleeping bag is behind the counter, and the outhouse is around back past the Nuka Cola machine." She smiled in a way that politely said _get out of my space_ , so he did just that, giving Dogmeat a final pat and tipping his tri-corner to her as he went out.

He found the sleeping bag along with a clean pillow and even a damn teddy bear on the floor behind the counter. So, she had jokes. He kicked the teddy bear into the corner, sighed heavily, and hit the shower.

Fucking friend zone.


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't the worst night sleep of his life, but it wasn't the best either. Hancock tossed and turned on the floor of the Red Rocket, dozing for a few minutes at a time. He finally gave up completely around 3am and tiptoed outside to get some fresh air. Before he left, he glanced in the garage bay and saw the glint of canine eyes from Dogmeat, who was lying at the foot of Amelia's bed. Soft snores rose from the other end where a tumble of silky brown hair fell across the pillow. At least someone was sleeping like a champ.

"Good boy." Hancock whispered, and walked out the door.

He climbed a ladder made from scrap wood up to the roof and perched himself on the eastern edge of the overhang with his legs dangling over the side. He played mind games with himself to pass the time, like counting the number of houses in Concord, or mentally picturing the mayor of Diamond City's skin slowly melting off from radiation. That one always put a smile on his face.

His next mental picture flashed in like an atom bomb and featured Amelia, fresh from the shower wrapped in nothing but a towel. She grinned at him with a dazzling display of perfect teeth before dropping the towel on the floor. He didn't get to revel in her imagined splendor for long however, because his daydream was interrupted by the woman herself. Damn.

"Whatcha' doing, Hancock? Can't sleep?" Amelia asked, sitting down next to him.

"Ah…nah kid. I'm just an early riser."

They sat in silence for a few moments, just listening to the nighttime sounds of the Commonwealth and watching the stars twinkle through the green haze.

"I wonder if there's anyone up there." Amelia mused, swinging her feet and leaning back to lay flat on the roof.

"If they are, I hope they're smarter with their planet than we were." Hancock replied, leaning back next to her. They said nothing else, and in a few minutes Hancock closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. He was nearly asleep when he thought he felt a hand slip into his, but didn't open his eyes, not wanting to find out if it was a dream.

He woke with the sunrise and saw that he was alone on the roof. His back ached, but at least he had gotten some sleep. Amelia was down in the garage tinkering with her sniper rifle, while Dogmeat snacked on some crispy squirrel bits.

"Morning" Hancock yawned, straitening his tri-corner hat.

"Hey sleepyhead, I was just about to come wake you up." Amelia slapped a full magazine back in her rifle and slung it across her shoulder. "Ready to head out?"

"Where we headed?"

"Preston wants me to scope out an old fort on the coast."

Peering through the scope on her sniper rifle, Amelia could see several mirelurks ambling around the inside of the old Minuteman fort known as The Castle. Getting in would be easy since a good portion of the walls were missing, but getting out again might be a problem. She was half regretting leaving Dogmeat behind, but maybe it was just as well. She didn't want him getting chewed up by mirelurks. Besides he wasn't quite used to working with Hancock yet and it was easier to coordinate attacks with just two.

"Eh, it's just a few crustys." Hancock said, checking his combat rifle and tilting his tri-corner hat back slightly. "We can take them, no problem."

"I'm not so sure John. That's a lot of eggs."

"That's what explosive rounds are made for doll face. You get the big ones from up there with the .308," he nodded at a rickety wooden guard platform, "and I'll finish off the little crunchy ones on the ground."

Amelia wasn't totally convinced, but she topped off her magazine and took aim on the closest mirelurk.

A few minutes later they were standing in the middle of the courtyard surrounded by dead mirelurks when they hear an earth shaking roar from the direction of the bay. They watched as a massive figure rose from the water and began advancing on the castle.

"Ooh, now it's getting interesting." Hancock muttered, pulling the pins on two frag grenades. "See, if you would have let me buy that fat man launcher from KL-E-O…"

"Hancock, just shut up and kill the damn thing." Amelia yelled, swapping to her machine gun with explosive rounds. This was going to hurt.

"I've seen some fucked up shit in my day," Hancock wheezed while brushing mirelurk goo from his coat "but that shit right there," he pointed his rifle at the massive dead husk of the mirelurk queen, which was still oozing green, radioactive slime "takes the 'fucked up shit' grand prize."

Amelia peeled off her armor and wiped it down, then dosed herself with some Rad Away. "If you think this is bad you need to check out the Glowing Sea sometime."

They finished clearing The Castle of the last few remaining mirelurk eggs and powered up the radio transmitter.

"That should make Preston happy for now." Amelia said "I'm getting a little tired of being sent to far corners of the Commonwealth though."

"How about a break then?" Hancock suggested "I hear Salem is beautiful this time of year…"

"Oh yay!" Amelia said with obvious sarcasm "I've always wanted to visit the Museum of Witchcraft, where strange things happen and people disappear never to be seen again."

"Come on, It'll be fun," Hancock enticed "We can stop by Goodneighbor on the way and restock on ammo first. Maybe see if KL-E-O still has that launcher?" He clasped his hands together and actually fluttered his eyelids at her with a pleading look.

She finally cracked a smile and said, "Oh for crap sake, fine! I want to wash my vault suit anyway."

Hancock mentally high-fived himself the image of her taking the suit off, but wisely gave no outward sign of his perverted thoughts. They hoofed it back over to the Old State House where Fahrenheit was a little put out by her boss's new companion. She said nothing however, and managed not to glare too much since the vault dweller was given her own room. There had never been anything between Hancock and his bodyguard, but that didn't keep Fahrenheit from taking her job description a little too literally.

Amelia stripped down and eased herself into a rusty tub full of tepid water that had been provided by her host. It wasn't as good as her shower back at red rocket, but beggars couldn't be choosers. After her bath she soaked her vault suit in the tub and then hung it up to dry. She slipped into a mostly intact pre-war dress Hancock had gotten from who knows where, and joined him in the main room. He was lounging on a broken down sofa reading a copy of 'Grognak the Barbarian: In the Bosom of the Corsair Queen' which had a particularly lurid cover.

"I prefer Manta-Man myself" Amelia said sitting down in a chair across from him and propping her bare feet up on the coffee table.

"What? I can't believe my ears short stack!" Hancock protested "Manta Man is a bum. All he does is swim around underwater and make small talk with sea slugs. Grognak is a sword swinging badass."

"Yeah, a real badass…" she mocked "until he gets distracted by some half clothed dame and takes a dagger in the back. Seriously, those comics are nothing but soft core porn for horny teenage boys. Manta Man actually has brains."

"Doll face," he said, leaning across the table "you keep insulting my man Grog like that and I may have to go all barbarian on you myself." He suddenly ran a rough finger up the bottom of her foot causing her to recoil violently and shriek with laughter. Apparently Amelia was super ticklish, and this knowledge caused Hancock's face to light up with glee.

"Oooh, she does have a weakness!" he purred, stepping over the table with both hands extended towards her like claws. "Tickle, tickle short stack."

"Hancock I swear if you tickle me again I will cut you like a brahmin steak."

Now he had his hands on the arms of her chair and was leaning over her, looking pointedly at the way the dress fit to her curves.

"Well that's funny because I don't see a knife anywhere." He muttered, and had just begun reaching for her when he felt a sharp poke just below his belly button. He froze and swallowed hard.

"Guess you got distracted." she whispered, staring directly into his eyes.

REVIEWS PLEASE!


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